After All This Time
by mysticmelodies1
Summary: She wasn't all that concerned about how he found her. But she did want to know why.
1. Chapter 1

"You know you aren't supposed to be here," she shut the door behind her and set her keys on the hall tree just to the side of the door. She could smell the faint, lingering scent of his cologne the moment she walked in.

He had been sitting there long enough that his eyes had adjusted to the dark. The faint moonlight from the window was enough for him. He doubted she could see anything at all from where she was standing, but somehow, her eyes locked onto him from across the room.

He shifted in the seat just slightly, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward onto his knees.

"Technically, you aren't supposed to be here either."

The corner of her lips turned up into that sexy smirk that drove him absolutely mad.

"Touché."

She flicked on the light without warning and he immediately turned his eyes downward, slowly lifting his gaze until the light no longer agitated him. For a few seconds, he just stared at her. He liked her choice of clothing, pale blue shirt with jeans… sensible shoes, as always, and a scarf draped over one shoulder. And although her outfit was certainly very flattering, he couldn't get over her face. He didn't realize just how much he'd missed seeing her. Every line, every twitch of her mouth… how she'd bite her lip and her long eyelashes would fall against her cheek when she'd lost her train of thought and was trying to remember what she'd forgotten. How she could never keep her hands still if she was nervous. Mallory moved his feet a lot when he was annoyed, but, needless to say, it had no effect on James. Not like M… _his_ M.

Olivia didn't say another word. She simply unpacked her shopping and put it all away as if she hadn't even noticed he was there. He watched with silent fascination as she unpacked the shopping, putting everything in its proper place before making a start on her dinner for the evening. From what he could see, it looked rather good, and she certainly seemed to know her way around a kitchen. He began to daydream about them cooking a meal together one day. He could make a lovely dinner for the two of them… or perhaps breakfast in bed. He smiled, deciding he liked the second option much better.

She glanced over at him and rolled her eyes, wondering what on earth he was thinking about that was making him grin like an idiot.

He noticed she only put one serving of salmon in the oven. "Don't I get any?"

She shrugged. "Had I known you were coming, I might have been better prepared." She briefly glanced over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the pot of vegetables in front of her. "You should have called."

He chuckled silently. "Lucky for you, I've already had dinner."

"How did you find me anyway? Did Mallory tell you, or have you been taking liberties with company resources again, hmm?"

He shrugged. "Bit of both. Mallory unknowingly left me a clue and I ran with it."

She grabbed the tea towel from the table and wiped her hands. He watched her stand on her toes to take two tumblers from the cabinet and fought the urge to smile at how cute she was.

He quickly got a handle on his facial expression when she turned to look at him.

"Eyes closed, 007."

There was a note of command in her voice that sent a jolt of desire straight to his groin. He bit back the '_yes, ma'am_' that was just on the tip of his tongue and nodded just once, closing his eyes without hesitation.

A few moments later, he felt the couch dip as she sat down beside him. He took the dull sound of the glass bottle on the coffee table as his cue to open his eyes again.

He arched an eyebrow, giving the bottle a pointed look.

"It's bad enough that you know where I live. I don't need you breaking in here and helping yourself to my scotch as well."

"Who says I don't already know where you hide it?" he smirked.

She rolled her eyes and effortlessly opened the bottle. His eyes never left her hands while she poured a glass for herself. She then set it back on the table, picking up her glass.

She sat back on the sofa and crossed her legs. "You can pour it yourself."

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded.

"You don't have to call me that anymore, James. I'm not-"

"Yes, you are." He cut her off sharply, pouring himself a very large drink before downing half of it in one go.

Her face fell.

She always knew he had a soft spot for her, despite her being a 'bitch'. But she never thought he would become so attached that it interfered with his work.

This wasn't good.

"You need to let go, Bond."

"You think it's that easy? You think I'd be here if-" he stopped. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be going.

"You shouldn't be here," she echoed her earlier words. "You should be in the field. You should be focused."

"Yes, I should be. I should be in the field with a gun in my hand. And _you_ should be in a box in the ground."

She noticed he'd curled his fists in his lap, what he always did when he was trying to keep his anger in check. Though, she couldn't figure out if he was upset that she wasn't dead, or if it was that she'd lied to him.

"I'm well aware of what _should_ be happening, but as you can see, that's not what's going on, is it?"

He closed his eyes and sighed taking a few seconds of deep breathing to steady himself. He didn't mean to snap at her and goodness knows he didn't wish her dead.

"I'm sorry."

She nodded, taking the opportunity to study his face while his eyes were closed. "We'll have something to eat… take some time… and afterward, you can tell me why you're here."

He nodded once, opening his eyes and taking another sip of his drink.

She got up to go check on the meal and left James on the couch by himself, swirling the scotch in his glass. He was fighting every impulse to turn the bottle upside down and chug the whole thing, but he didn't want to be under the influence when he told her what he'd come to say.

The only sounds to be heard were her fluttering about the kitchen and the steady drumming of his own heart pounding away in his ears. He'd been hoping to just say it and get it over with before he lost the nerve. Though, perhaps it was better this way. Building up to it instead of just blurting it out. Might give him a chance to think of something more eloquent than 'I miss you'. Besides, he had a few questions of his own, the first being how the hell she managed to pull it off.

He sighed. She'd probably throw him out. She'd probably make some excuse about it being unprofessional. He'd never been one to believe in miracles or fate or any of that nonsense. But god or no, he'd been granted a second chance, and if this truly was going to be his last bit of time with her, he needed to tell her.

He heard a delicate 'clink' on the table in front of him and looked up to see a small plate with a bit of salmon, a few vegetables, and a bit of bread.

"Eat."

"But I-"

"Yes, I know what you told me, and I know what your idea of dinner consists of. If it comes in a bottle, it doesn't count. Top shelf or not." She pushed the platter a little closer to him. "Eat. Then we'll talk."

She decided to let slide his instinctively muttered 'yes, ma'am' and simply let him eat his dinner in peace. Maybe by then he'd calm down enough to tell her exactly what was going on.


	2. Chapter 2

They ate in silence for the most part, only speaking when one of them needed the pepper or another helping of scotch. It didn't escape her attention that James wasn't drinking as much as he normally would, and for a split second she wondered if he was trying to give up. Then she realized how ridiculous that notion was and moved onto the idea of him being on some sort of medication. It had never stopped him before, of course. She'd been telling him for years to take better care of himself. Perhaps Mallory was finally getting through to him.

He noticed that she was keeping a close eye on him. She was waiting for him to speak first. Of course she was. It was he that had broken in unannounced. He was the one who owed her an explanation. But he couldn't help feeling like she owed him one as well. He'd watched her die in his arms; had felt the life leave her body. How could she have done this? How could she have survived and not told him? He understood keeping it from other people, but he was different… wasn't he?

He sighed. "I suppose I should be the one to start."

"Yes. I think that's a good idea." She gently placed her fork down and sipped her drink.

He pushed a piece of asparagus. "Mallory's computer… there were coordinates-"

"You hacked his computer?"

"Will you let me finish?" He pursed his lips together and she nodded for him to continue. "There was a slip of paper sticking out of his laptop. He stepped out for a moment and I took my chance. I still don't know why I felt the need to look, but… something just gave me a nudge in that direction, I guess. It had coordinates on it and I knew they had nothing to do with the case in Poland. I looked closer and there was a small symbol scratched in the corner. It was badly drawn, but I recognized it as an Om."

"And?"

"And for a second I thought maybe he had a contact in India somewhere but I've worked with Mallory long enough to know he's not a numbers man. He leaves all that to Q. So the fact that he was using coordinates to trace a contact didn't make sense to me. So I got the numbers in my head, replaced the paper, and when I got home, I tracked it to a residential area just outside Yorkshire. My next thought was he was having some sort of fling, but that's a hell of a lot of trouble to go through just to hide a girlfriend. And the Om still didn't make sense. So I had a drink, paced for a while, and then it all just… clicked."

"Clicked?"

"He refused to talk about you. And there were a few times when he slipped and referred to you in the present tense. I thought he was just like the rest of us- that he still hadn't quite grasped the fact that you were dead. Whenever someone brought you up, he was always changing the subject. But it did seem odd to me that no one was allowed to see you. I tried a few times. I wanted to say goodbye properly, but they'd been given strict orders apparently. Something about it being your wishes. Then I remembered the symbol on the slip of paper. Om. A symbol stands for something else, doesn't it? Om. O. M. Olivia Mansfield."

He bit his lip and leaned forward in his chair.

"You know there was a part of me that always held out hope, but I didn't dare believe it. Even on the way here, I knew it was far-fetched, but I had to know for sure. When I got here, the whole place smelled like your perfume and… well… I figured it out."

She arched an eyebrow, seemingly impressed. "Well… that's half the mystery solved. But that doesn't answer the main question. You're a smart man. Obviously, the goal was to make me disappear and you still made it your mission to find me. Why?"

He shrugged, at a loss for words, and looked down at his hands. "I missed you."

She snorted. "I think you can do a bit better than that."

His eyes snapped up to her face. "You don't get it do you? _I missed you_." He punctuated each word. "I couldn't stand not being without you. It hurt to call someone else M. It hurt to _breathe_ without you. I couldn't concentrate. I nearly drank myself to death and _nothing_ helped me forget. I couldn't sleep for days. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw you lying there in my arms, the life draining out of you… and me just sitting there, powerless to stop it. I would have given anything if it meant saving you. When I figured out the coordinates… when I realized there was a chance you were out there somewhere… I needed to find you. I needed to know I hadn't failed. I needed to see you living and breathing. I couldn't stand the thought that I'd lost you forever. I couldn't… I couldn't cope with that."

He took a few breaths to steady himself and Olivia realized just how close he was to tears.

He swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he spoke.

"_I. missed. you._"

Olivia sat in her chair, frozen. She realized her mouth was hanging open and she closed it quickly, folding her arms even more tightly across her chest.

She was completely taken aback by his revelation. Even losing Vesper hadn't hit him this hard. Mallory always said she was sentimental about him, and he was right. But goodness knows she never thought it was reciprocated.

He looked into her eyes. "If you don't feel it's best for me to know where to find you, then relocate. I'll learn to live with it. As long as you're alive. I just need to know you're still breathing. I don't care about anything else."

"Dear boy," she whispered.

She reached across the small table and cupped his cheek in her hand. His hand flew up to his cheek, holding her hand there. He closed his eyes and gave her small hand a squeeze, as if needing to reassure himself she was there, in solid flesh. He turned his head and kissed her palm and she gasped as she felt a tear roll down his cheek and onto her thumb.

A small voice in the back of her head told her that his was the farthest thing from professional, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her heart was breaking seeing him like this. And as much as she didn't want to admit it to herself, she'd missed him just as much. She missed the job, too, of course, but everything she missed about it had to do with James. She missed yelling at him for blowing up buildings, she missed him trying to use his charm to get out of a bollocking… hell, she even missed coming home to him waiting for her in the dark and nearly giving her a heart attack.

"I missed you, too."

His eyes met hers. "What?" She'd whispered it so softly, he hardly heard it at all.

"I missed you, too." She stroked his cheek with her thumb. "As unprofessional as it may be, I missed you, too."

He smiled. "So you miss me blowing up embassies?"

She chuckled. "Well, I miss yelling at you for it. Though, I don't miss the resulting headache."

He kissed her palm again. "God, you don't know how I happy I am." He just shook his head. "You're here and you're alive."

She nodded. "Yes. I am."

He grinned. "God, I lo-" he stopped himself and shut his eyes.

Her eyes widened. Surely, he wasn't about to say…

"What?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, opening his eyes to look at her again. "It's not important."

"No. What were you going to say?"

He took a deep breath.

"I love you," he whispered.

She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off before she had a chance.

"I know. I know. It's unprofessional and I shouldn't and it's against some rule or other, but damnit, I can't help it. I love you. I didn't know what I had 'til you were gone."

She could only look at him in disbelief. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"What's it going to take for you to believe me?"

He gently took her hand from his cheek, stood and walked over to her.

She saw it coming. The look in his eyes told her exactly what he was planning to do. She knew she should have stopped him, but her body froze and before she could protest with the part of her brain that was still thinking logically, she felt his lips on hers, kissing her as if the touch of her lips was as vital to him as breathing.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he gently pulled her to her feet. He began to pull away from her and she stood on her toes, not wanting to break contact, though she knew she needed to breathe, and soon. He put a tender hand on her cheek and carefully broke the kiss, smiling down at her.

He smirked. "Missed me, did you?"

"Bond?"

"Mm?"

"Shutup," she roughly pulled him down into another passionate kiss. She hadn't realized just how much she longed to kiss him. She'd stifled that desire in favor of professionalism, but now that she had a taste, she couldn't get enough. And from the looks of things, neither could he.

She gasped when he pulled her body flush to his.

He broke the kiss, panting and looked into her eyes.

"Missed me, did you?" she smirked.

He let out a breathless laugh. "You have no idea."

"Oh… I think I'm beginning to get the picture." She reached down and squeezed him for good measure.

He growled. "M."

"Ah, ah."

He looked into her eyes. "Olivia."

"Again," she whispered.

"Olivia," he stroked her hair. "Olivia."

She kissed him again. "Good boy."

Her thumb brushed the tip of his erection when she let go, and even through the fabric of his trousers, her touch still set him on fire. His body shuddered and she felt his hand tense on the small of her back.

"You look tense," she teased. "Something the matter?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Now she has a sense of humor."

She chuckled. "How else would I be able to stand you?"

"Ha. Deny it all you want," he smirked. "You love me."

She smiled. "Yes. I do." Her grin grew wider at the shock on his face. "I love you, too," she put a hand on his cheek. "My dear boy."

He bent down to kiss her again and she moaned at the feeling of him. All hard lines against the softness of her curves.

He pulled away from her abruptly and she furrowed her brow, the confusion clearly written on her face.

"You don't… we don't have to," he took a couple of breaths to steady himself. "That's not why I came here. I just wanted to see you, and to let you know how I felt."

"I know," she laid her head against his chest.

"I don't want you to feel that you have to just because I can't control myself."

She smirked. "If you hadn't noticed, I wasn't exactly discouraging you."

"No…" he put his chin on top of her head. "But I mean it. I don't want to pressure you. I don't really care if anything else happens. I know you're alive. That's enough."

He felt her tugging away so he released her from his embrace. Her hand slid down to find his and she gave his fingers a squeeze, smiling as she led him down the hallway.

"Olivia…"

"I know," she paused and turned to face him. "I can't promise anything, but I would like you to stay for a while."

"You're sure?"

She nodded. "Just hold me… and after that, we'll see."

He nodded once and followed her down the hallway to her bedroom. Admittedly, it would be difficult to keep himself in check now that he was finally able to be near her in the way he wanted, but for her, he'd do anything. Besides, he honestly didn't want to rush this. He wanted to spend some time just being around her and taking her in. He wanted time to relish the fact that he'd been given a second chance. And this time, he got it right.


	3. Chapter 3

He held her close, gently tugging her head to rest on his chest so he could stroke her hair and kiss her forehead. He was pleasantly surprised when she reached up and laced their fingers together, bringing their joined hands to rest on his stomach. He smiled and played with her fingers for a while, earning him a few lighthearted giggled from her, before she let out a heavier sigh.

"What is it?"

"I should tell you…"

He didn't need to guess what she meant. "You don't owe me an explanation. I know you did what you thought was best."

"But you are curious." It wasn't a question. She saw the accusatory look in his eyes when they'd first sat down to dinner. He wanted answers.

He sighed. "The question did cross my mind a few times. But I'm not your keeper. You don't have to explain anything to me."

"I want to." She felt him nod and she took a deep breath before continuing. "Staging my death was Mallory's idea. The planning and execution…" she stopped, feeling him tense at her choice of words. "The way we went about it," she corrected. "That was entirely me."

"I see."

"I had a small syringe with me when we went into the tunnel. It was filled with a drug that I'd obtained from Q branch. It was designed to control adrenaline and slow the heart rate."

He gritted his teeth, taking a slow, deep breath to calm himself. He couldn't believe she would try something so risky. He had a mind to strangle Q for even letting her have it, though he doubted she gave him much of a choice in the matter. She could take care of herself, he had no doubt of that, but at her age, tampering with the heart was most certainly not a good idea, particularly not injecting a drug that would slow her heart rate and potentially stop it all together.

His muscles tensed beneath her and she felt the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest as he tried to relax. She paused and waited for his signal to continue.

"It's alright. Go on." He rubbed her arm.

"I reasoned that if I did get injured somewhere along the way, the drug would help in that I would bleed out more slowly and buy myself a bit more time. That is, if Silva managed to get to me before you could…" she felt him tense again and she nuzzled into him further. "I didn't want you to be distracted. We couldn't afford that at such a crucial point in the game. That's why I kept quiet. The drug was already in my system doing what it was supposed to do… the rest was up to you. And I had every confidence that you could finish the job."

"But you… in my arms…" his voice was quiet.

"By that time, the drug had really begun to take. I didn't realize how dizzy it would make me. Q warned me that it might happen, but I suppose because of my age, it hit me faster. I was just grateful you caught me before I hit the stone floor."

She smiled up at him, trying to lighten his mood. He returned her smile, but it didn't meet his eyes. She could tell he was reliving it. And he would continue to do so until he heard the whole story.

"It did slow my heart rate, and, in that turn, slowed the bleeding. When you were with me… when the medics came… you were mumbling something in my ear."

"You heard that?"

"Yes and no. I was aware that you were talking to me, but I didn't catch what you said. I did want to respond, but I had to stick to the plan. And in order to do that, you had to believe I was dead. I could vaguely make out yours and Mallory's voices as I was fading in and out of consciousness…" his arm tightened around her. "It wasn't my intention to put you through all that. But you have to understand. It was the only way to take me out of the equation and deal with Silva once and for all. We didn't know if he had any other accomplices or family that would have sought vengeance for his death. It was easier and safer for everyone to have me die." She bit her lip. "I came up with a plan that I thought was best given the situation. I knew what could happen, and I prepared for it. I just had to trust that the medics would get to me in time."

"And if they didn't?"

"_They did_," she said firmly. She sat up to look at him, propping herself on her elbow. "I'm here, James."

She sat up fully, looking into his eyes, then picked up his hand, kissed it, and placed it over her heart.

"I'm here," she smiled. "Good as new."

He reached out and pulled her down into a deep kiss that left her wanting more. She braced herself on the headboard with her right hand, while using her left to slowly pull his hand downward.

He gasped against her lips when his hand met the soft curve of her breast, and he pulled away to look at her.

"You don't ha-"

"I know," she put her hand over his and made him squeeze. "I want this. I want you."

He stroked her cheek, kissing her again and maneuvering her to lie on her back. He continued to kiss her, even as he tugged her shirt out of her slacks. She blindly felt for the switch to the bedside lamp and her breath caught when his hand shot out to stop hers.

He pulled her hand to his lips to kiss the inside of her wrist. "Please don't."

"I need to," she whispered.

"No you don't. You're gorgeous. You don't have any reason to hide."

"I'm not hiding…" He arched an eyebrow. "I'm only thinking of your poor young eyes."

He bent down to kiss her again. "There's nothing wrong with my eyes, and there's nothing wrong with you. You think I would be here with you now if I cared about your age?"

"Well, I-"

His lips stopped whatever halfhearted protest she was about to come up with.

"The answer to that question is no. I don't give a damn about that. I want you. Just like you are."

She studied his face carefully. He knew she was the one person who could always tell when he was lying, despite all his training. When he saw the smile slowly spread across her face, he kissed her again.

"Now… will you trust me?" She nodded. "Good," he grinned.

He took his time unbuttoning her blouse, allowing his fingers to 'accidentally' brush the side of her breast as he helped her sit up to take it off. He reached for the button to her trousers and she grabbed his wrist, stilling his hand.

"Not so fast," she shook her head. She reached out and tugged on his shirt. "Turnabout is fair play."

He smirked. "That it is." He quickly pulled his shirt over his head, not taking the time to worry about where it landed as he flung it across the room.

He had a small surge of pride at the little hitch in her breath as she took in his bare skin. She tentatively reached out to run her hands over his chest, feeling his muscles tense as her fingertips lightly trailed over his skin. She let her hands wander down even further to his well-maintained abdominal muscles. Her fingertip had just hit the line of definition at the waistband of his jeans when he cleared his throat.

"Well?" he asked, his voice now husky with desire. She looked up suddenly. "Am I to your liking… ma'am?"

She flushed. "You're living up to your reputation so far."

He smiled. "Glad to hear it."

He leaned over her again, kissing her lips gently, but with an underlying passion that he was desperately trying to keep contained. He stabilized himself on one hand, so as not to crush her beneath him, while carefully undoing the button and zip on her trousers with one hand. He expertly slid his hand into her underwear, making her jump and tense with anticipation.

"Shhh…" he kissed her neck, slowly moving his fingers along her sex. "Relax. I've got you."

He felt that she wasn't as wet as he'd hoped, but she was also older and while he didn't have ample experience with older women, he did know enough to know that it was due to her age and not because she didn't want him. He swiped his fingers upward. She was aroused, but not nearly wet enough for her to take him in without it hurting her. Luckily, what he was planning to do in just a few moments would help to remedy that situation.

She moaned, biting her lip in an effort to stifle the sound. She was trying her best not to squirm against him, but it had been so long since she'd been touched by hands other than her own. And somehow, the fact that they were his hands made the sensations even more intense. He found the hardening bud he'd been seeking and began to rub in small circles. She gasped loudly when his fingertip brushed against it and she couldn't help pushing her hips upward, seeking more contact.

"James…" she whimpered.

He kissed her neck again. "I know," he whispered.

He sat back, tugging her trousers off as he went. She was conscious of her state of undress, but somehow she didn't seem nearly as fearful as she had been. And he noticed, with satisfaction, that her hand didn't twitch in the direction of the lamp.

He hooked his fingers underneath the elastic of her knickers and looked up, silently asking permission to remove the last barrier. She nodded and he slowly pulled them down her legs before tossing them on the floor.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he murmured, more to himself than her.

She blushed again, fully conscious of her nudity. Part of her desperately wanted to cover herself, and yet the butterflies in her stomach were doing somersaults at the way he was devouring her with his eyes. He crawled over her again, almost cat-like. He started peppering her face with kisses, before moving down to nuzzle at her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point and making her shiver. Her hands clutched at the back of his head when he finally took her nipple into his mouth. She whimpered, pressing her thighs together, idly wondering if, after all this time, she would be able to handle all the delicious sensations that were coursing through her body. He pinched and teased the other pebbled tip with his fingers, twisting and pulling, while simultaneously sucking her flesh hard enough that she was sure it would leave a mark in the morning.

She growled and he grinned against her heated flesh. She let go of his head in favor of clawing at the duvet, and his hand slid agonizingly slowly from her breast, trailing over her side and down to her hip, where he allowed his fingers to dip between her legs again and tease her sensitive folds. He then began to kiss his way down the center of her chest, down her belly, placing a chaste kiss at the top of her mound. Her fists tightened as she clutched at the sheet even harder, aching for him to kiss her where she needed it the most, but she was not a woman who would be reduced to begging so easily.

He skipped over her warm, inviting core to place kisses along her thighs, even as his fingertips still teased her. Her hips wouldn't stop moving now and he was sure that in just a few more seconds…

She whimpered. "Damnit, James."

"Yes?" he looked up at her with faux innocence.

"Touch me," she growled.

He smirked. "All you had to do was ask."

"Smug bast- AH!" her hand flew to the back of his head.

His mouth drove her mad as he tasted, teased and caressed her with his tongue. Her head was swirling. She'd only done this with her late husband a scant few times, and it had never felt anything like what she was experiencing right now. He slid his fingers into her, noting with pride that she was getting wetter by the second. Her inner walls fluttered around his fingers, squeezing them beautifully. He thought he should still use a bit of lube, just to be on the safe side, but he was nonetheless pleased that he was able to cause such a reaction in her. He began thrusting faster, making the movements with his tongue even more precise, quickly taking note of what she liked and doing it as much as he could. He was rewarded with a sharp cry and her fingers tightening in his hair as her release flooded his tongue.

He gave a low, gravelly moan, gently removing his fingers and licking them clean.

She reached forward and undid her belt as quickly as she could with trembling hands.

"Get these off, now."

"Yes, ma'am."

He quickly divested himself of his jeans, hardly having time to kick them off before she yanked his shorts down around his knees. She reached over for the nightstand again and before he could tell her not to touch the lamp, he realized she was reaching for the drawer. She handed him the small blue bottle, desperately hoping she wouldn't have to explain why she needed it.

He simply smiled. "Ever the prepared one."

He applied a generous amount to her sex and slathered some along the length of his shaft, just for good measure before tossing it aside and stretching out atop her again.

She looked into his eyes with an intensity he'd never seen before.

"Make love to me, James."

He moaned and kissed her deeply, positioning himself at her entrance. He slid the tip of his erection against her a few times before gently easing himself in.

She gasped, her deep blue eyes growing wide as he stretched and filled her. He was bigger than any partner she'd ever had and part of her felt sorry that she didn't take more time to admire him before he entered her. He felt her hands tightly clutching at his shoulders and he stopped about midway.

"Are you alright? Am I hurting you?"

She shook her head quickly, having to remind herself to breathe before she answered. "No. No, I'm fine. You're just… oh gods…" he shifted his hips, pressing in a little more, though whether or not it was intentional, she couldn't tell. "You're massive."

He smirked and she pinched his arm. "Hey!"

"Shutup."

He laughed. "I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"AH!" he thrust the rest of the way in, smirking down at her as she glared back up at him. "Cheeky bugger," she said breathlessly.

He kissed her neck, deciding to wait a few seconds for her to adjust, though he wanted desperately to move. "You love me for it."

"Lucky for you."

She could feel his hips stutter in his effort to keep still and she tentatively rocked her hips, silently telling him it was alright to move. He thrust into her slowly and deeply, murmuring in her ear how much he wanted her- how much he _needed_ her. Her whimpers and cries of pleasure were almost enough to send him over the edge and he'd barely even started. He used every bit of training in his arsenal to keep his mind in check and in control of his body. He kept changing speeds, pulling out slowly before thrusting into her fast and hard, anything to keep her just the slightest bit off balance.

He yelped when he felt her nails dig into his backside.

"Showoff."

"Of course," he smirked. Deciding that he'd teased her enough, he set a steady pace, reaching down and teasing her clit with his thumb, which earned him another cry of pleasure from her. She arched her back and was rolling her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Oh gods, please… James…" she whimpered and bit her lip, her head tossing back and forth on the pillow.

He groaned at the sight in front of him. He needed to see her orgasm. Now.

He thrust hard and pinched her clit between two fingers, watching her face carefully.

"JAMES!" Her eyes screwed shut and she screamed her pleasure loudly and unashamedly.

"Fuck! OLIVIA!"

Her muscles squeezed him tighter than he'd anticipated. The delicious wet warmth of her sex in combination with watching her surrender herself to pleasure so completely was too much, and it triggered the strongest climax he could ever remember having.

He didn't mean to collapse on top of her, but his limbs felt completely useless and his arms buckled beneath him. She didn't mind at all. Her hands stroked his back, holding him close as they trembled through the aftershocks together.

After they'd finally managed to regulate their breathing again, he carefully pulled himself out of her and they cuddled up in much the same position as when they'd started; him lying in the center of the bed, with her curled up at his side, her head on his chest. He helped her pull the sheets over them so they wouldn't get too chilly.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She shook her head. "No. Not at all."

He smiled and hugged her closer. "Good."

They lay there in silence for a few moments, both enjoying the feeling of being with each other, yet in the back of their minds, they knew it would be short lived. He would have to report back sooner or later, but he didn't see how he could go and face death knowing that he hadn't actually lost his reason for living.

She sighed. "Mallory will be looking for you."

"I know."

She closed her eyes, willing the tears not to fall. "They need you. You have to go back, James."

"I know that, too," he murmured.

Mirroring her earlier movements, he kissed the palm of her hand, bringing it to rest over his heart.

"That… is for you. No matter where I am or what I'm doing. Remember that. It's all for you," he kissed her hair. "Always."

She closed her eyes as if trying to memorize the pattern of his heartbeat before moving her hand upward to lay it on his cheek. She looked up into his eyes, stroking his face gently with her thumb.

"Come back to me," she whispered.

They both knew there was no way he could promise that, but she needed to know that he would at least try.

"I will."

"Good." She laid her head back on his chest, positioning herself so that her ear was right over his heart.

They were jolted out of their reverie when his mobile rang.

"Oh, for fuck's sake…" he grumbled, clinging to her tighter.

She chuckled, giving him a nudge. "It might be Mallory. You need to answer."

It rang again. "Do I have to?"

"Be a good boy, James," she smiled.

She sat up so that he could do the same and he got up to find where he'd flung his jeans. Once he'd fished his mobile out of his pocket, he cleared his throat and answered.

"Bond… Yes… I had personal business to attend to… No, I'm still on English soil… Yes, sir… Sir?... I see. Well, thank you."

He hung up, looking pleasantly surprised.

She was reclining against the pillows, with the sheet loosely draped across her chest. She was still shy in the light, he could tell, but she was coming around.

"Well?" she asked.

"Mallory… apparently, I've been given a week of leave."

She arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"He just said he's giving me time to sort out my brain before I get back in the field and to use this time wisely."

"Wisely, eh?" she smirked.

He laughed and rolled his eyes. "I don't think that was what he had in mind, Liv."

"Does this mean you object?"

"I didn't say that," he grinned and climbed back into bed with her, kissing her gently, but still passionately.

"Well, 007… however shall we spend all that time?"

He smirked and rolled on top of her as she laughed and pulled him down to kiss her, beginning the second of what would turn out to be five rounds of lovemaking before the evening was through.

* * *

-007-007-007-007-007-007-007-007-007-007-

* * *

He smirked, handing the mobile back to Q.

"Will that be all, sir?"

"Yes, thank you." Mallory gave the young man a nod and he quickly scurried back down to his techno cave in Q branch.

He gazed out of the window at the city skyline, noting that the sunset was actually quite lovely that evening. It wasn't nearly as dreary a day as he'd anticipated.

He took his hand out of his pocket, unfurling his fingers, and smiled down at the slip of paper therein.

He made a mental note to toss it into the incinerator before he left.

After all, it was no longer needed.


End file.
